I've been making my own yogurt for a while. Lest you assume it's because I'm super crunchy, let me state for the record that I only started doing it after Larry guilted me into it. He's gone all Dr. EatRight on me, and is pushing me to do as much food as we can from scratch. Which is good. But also annoying.

Anyway, I only recently switched to using organic milk for the yogurt. (Three cheers for me! And at least four dollars for the organic farmer guy!) Before I switched, I was using plain old milk, the kind that swears on the label the cows aren't on growth hormones (rBGH), but stays suspiciously silent on whether or not the cows might have smoked weed. I mean, these are Vermont cows. It's possible. Just sayin'.

Anyway, I figured if I was going to make yogurt from scratch, it might as well be organic so I could get Good Mom points, and also so it would cancel out all the french fries we ate on our road trip.

I am happy to report that the yogurt came out beautifully on the first try. But I might have been a bit too smug when I poured the freshly blended smoothies into the kids' cups for breakfast yesterday morning. I might have even thought to myself that June Cleaver could eat my freshly blended organic dust as I smoked by her on the Good Mom train.

Because no sooner did I think my haughty thoughts then we had what you might call a crash.The kind that involves a smoothie. And a laptop.

And a Good Mom on the verge of a panic attack.

Five hundred paper towels and deep breaths later, I am happy to report that both the laptop and the children survived.

But I learned my lesson. Just because it's organic, doesn't mean it won't almost kill you. Or your computer.

::

Also? I am aware of the close-your-eyes-and-groan puns in the title. My siblings will attest to the fact that all corny jokes and wince inducing puns are entirely my Dad's fault. And he will have to assume all liability for any wince-oriented-wrinkles you may pick up from regularly reading this blog. End of disclaimer.

I've been making my own yogurt for a while. Lest you assume it's because I'm super crunchy, let me state for the record that I only started doing it after Larry guilted me into it. He's gone all Dr. EatRight on me, and is pushing me to do as much food as we can from scratch. Which is good. But also annoying.

Anyway, I only recently switched to using organic milk for the yogurt. (Three cheers for me! And at least four dollars for the organic farmer guy!) Before I switched, I was using plain old milk, the kind that swears on the label the cows aren't on growth hormones (rBGH), but stays suspiciously silent on whether or not the cows might have smoked weed. I mean, these are Vermont cows. It's possible. Just sayin'.

Anyway, I figured if I was going to make yogurt from scratch, it might as well be organic so I could get Good Mom points, and also so it would cancel out all the french fries we ate on our road trip.

I am happy to report that the yogurt came out beautifully on the first try. But I might have been a bit too smug when I poured the freshly blended smoothies into the kids' cups for breakfast yesterday morning. I might have even thought to myself that June Cleaver could eat my freshly blended organic dust as I smoked by her on the Good Mom train.

Because no sooner did I think my haughty thoughts then we had what you might call a crash.The kind that involves a smoothie. And a laptop.

And a Good Mom on the verge of a panic attack.

Five hundred paper towels and deep breaths later, I am happy to report that both the laptop and the children survived.

But I learned my lesson. Just because it's organic, doesn't mean it won't almost kill you. Or your computer.

::

Also? I am aware of the close-your-eyes-and-groan puns in the title. My siblings will attest to the fact that all corny jokes and wince inducing puns are entirely my Dad's fault. And he will have to assume all liability for any wince-oriented-wrinkles you may pick up from regularly reading this blog. End of disclaimer.